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ForgottenForsaken
__FORCETOC__ = Session Info = None so far = Be the suave ladies' man. = You cannot be the suave ladies' man because you are too busy being the SURLY DRUNK IMPERIAL DRONE. Your name is ADRIEL LETHYX. You are SIXTEEN SOLAR SWEEPS OLD, which puts you somewhere in your MID THIRTIES in human terms. You have a variety of INTERESTS, but your STRESSFUL JOB and tendency to get HAMMERED OUT OF YOUR FREAKING MIND leave you too disinterested or exhausted or drunk to partake of them very often. In spite of your REALLY QUITE IMPRESSIVE BLUE BLOOD, which is pale to the order of NEAR-WHITENESS and which seems to glow with an OTHERWORLDLY QUALITY, you are an IMPERIAL DRONE. You blame the BUREAUCRATIC COCK-UP that resulted in your conscription into the Drone Corps on the NAUTICAL ARISTOCRACY-- of course, you are genetically a member of the drone subspecies of troll, but you always assumed, while young, that you would be given a cushier position thanks to your blood. Unlike most of your brethren, you are not a STUPID LUMMOX, which means you've always been regarded a LOOSE CANNON. You were put into the program with all the red and orange bloods, and your already strong body was given GENETIC ENHANCEMENTS to make you into one of the LOVABLE SUPERSOLDIERS all trolls know and fear. You were subjected to VICIOUS PSYCHIC TORTURE at the training facility, but due to your HIGH BLUE BLOOD and UNUSUALLY HIGH MENTAL RESISTANCE, you were not broken into an unquestioning servant like the others. Your MENTAL RESISTANCE is truly unusual; one could say that your mind LOVES BEING STRONG. It is even more difficult for Psionics to pick you up and toss you around than usual. You stopped participating in EXTREME FORMS OF ROLEPLAYING a long time ago, but you were once legendary. You achieved all the levels in the dangerous HIDE class. All of them. There were no levels left for anyone else. Your extreme resistance to all mental powers gives you an advantage against those who rely on them. Because of this, many trolls were eager to pair up with you to take on teams that abused their own psychic abilities, and you have slain many shitbloods as they tried to kill you with their minds. You sometimes pretend to be CLASSIST just so that you can flaunt your superior blood, but in reality YOU JUST MORE OR LESS HATE EVERYBODY. In fact, you really hate the UPPER CASTES even more than you hate all the others, and you sometimes indulge in REGICIDAL FANTASIES. You have written many short fiction works detailing your DESIRES TO TORTURE AND MAIM ROYALTY and you take great pleasure in culling INDIGO BLOODED BULGESUCKERS who can't cough up their GENETIC MATERIAL and deposit it in your FILIAL PAILS within twenty seconds of you KICKING THEIR DOORS DOWN. You also study THE DARKER SIDE OF THE OCCULT, and believe devoutly in the eventual coming of the MIRTHFUL MESSIAHS. But you're completely shit at SLAM POETRY. You used to have a PRETTY AWESOME MATESPRIT/MOIRAIL 2X RELATIONSHIP COMBO who took the edge off your razor-sharp personality, but she left you because you were stuck on Alternia while she was off conquering other worlds. Also because you were KIND OF AN ASSHOLE when she was departing. Your KISMESIS also left you under similar circumstances. Since then you have attempted to DRINK YOURSELF TO DEATH, but your GLORIOUS DRONE PHYSIQUE has far too strong a constitution to allow that. Because you are basically a SLAVE OF THE EMPIRE in spite of your high blood caste, you are forced to live where the Empire directs you to, and so to most effectively canvas your various COLLECTION ROUTES, you live out in the FUCKING BOONIES with no other adult trolls for company, and must instead rely on BILGESNORTING PUPAE for your entertainment and social needs. In this regard you are KIND OF A CREEPY WEIRDO. You are not shy about your age or profession, and use both to make sure that the pupae are PROPERLY INTIMIDATED. In short, you are KIND OF AN ASSHOLE, and it's really no surprise that your matesprit left you. Asshole. You did eventually find yourself a MOIRAIL, but she's a seadweller which is a little embarrassing. Your trolltag is forgottenForsaken and you TYPE VERY FIERCELY AND SEVERELY WITH NO PUNCTUATION AND A TENDENCY TO START DROPPIN YOUR GS WHEN YOU GET ANGRY OR DRUNK ALSO YOU TEND TO GET ANGRY AND DRUNK AT THE SAME TIME You also type in black in spite of your blue blood. You're not ashamed or shy about it, but your blood color is so light it becomes very hard to read, and you hate highlighting your own text to read it. = Examine SELF. = The first thing most people notice about Adriel is that he is tall. Like really obscenely tall. Like well over seven and going on eight feet tall. This is a lanky mothefucker who looms both intentionally and unintentionally over everybody. When stood beside the average six sweep-old, the tops of their heads tend to come up around Adriel's midriff. At times he can seem weirdly out of proportion, because much of his height-- more than normal, perhaps-- comes from his long legs, and his arms seem to be longer than normal as well, compared to his torso. The effect is somewhat lessened because he fails to fit into the bean-shoot look-- while lanky, he isn't rail-thin. His shoulders are broad, his body powerful and lean. He isn't bulky with muscle, but that doesn't mean it isn't there. His horns are long and point upwards and back, then curve out and back in slightly. All the way up, they're sort of ribbed and twisted. In short, think gazelle. His standard black hair is thick and unkempt, but he keeps it fairly short so it stays out of his face. His yellow eyes are bloodshot and sunken, with little bags under them due to stress and sleep deprivation. He wears a nearly-constant sneer, which exposes his teeth from behind his black lips. All of his teeth are quite sharp, and all approximately the same length, and he has neither a significant overbite or underbite, so teeth aren't exposed when his mouth is closed. He's most often seen wearing his armor, designed as much for intimidation as functionality. Composed of a breastplate, elbow-length clawed gauntlets, each bearing the symbol for either matespritship or kismesissitude, a crotch guard, chain mail leggings, spiked greaves, and clawed sabatons, the shiny-black armor is covered with small spikes and twisted thorns to give it a truly intimidating look. Emblazoned across the chest in phosphorescent white-blue are the jagged letters XIII, the ancient Imperial numerical symbol for 13. His axe, Coitus Impetus, matches his armor in color, and is simply massive. The two-handed greataxe has two blades facing opposite directions at the head-- one blade is marked with a red heart, the other with a white spade. = Do something adorable. = DO YOU EVEN KNOW ME AT ALL You refuse, and imply less than subtly that unless the reader wishes to be fed his own gonads, he should cease with this line of-- = Do something silly. = HEY SHITSTAIN DO YOU ACTUALLY READ OR ARE YOUR EYES JUST FOR SHOW IF YOURE NOT USING THEM I GUESS ILL TAKE THEM -- suggestion. IMMEDIATELY. = Do something awesome. = EVERYTHING I DO IS AWESOME YOULL NEED TO BE MORE SPECIFIC You use your giant freaking axe to hack through a young troll's front door as they cower against a wall. "Heeeeere's Lethyx!" It is not unusual, when people contact you (the few who dare) for them to catch you on the job. You have nearly two thousand hives in your jurisdiction, and grubs are always coming of age. The fact that you are chatting with them while drinking a dead troll's beer in a bloodsoaked living room is often a source of nausea for those brave few. They also get grossed out by your calm demeanor in regard to pails, but you are completely desensitized to them. Seriously, they're just pieces of metal bent and curved to hold stuff. Nobody gets bent out of shape about baskets. As such, you use the obscenely useful but unfortunately also obscenely obscene (and therefore underused) Pail Modus. = Examine Chumproll. = CHECK OUT THESE HOOFBEANSTS ASSES AcrimoniousVellicate -- NO FUCKING CLUE WHY NIZIKA BOTHERS WITH THIS FISHFACE WHINER MS AdjutorObedientiary -- KINDA SLOW BUT MAKES DAMN GOOD ARMOR SO I GUESS SHES NOT TOTALLY USELESS MS AmbientArtisan -- SLIMY LITTLE NOOKWHIFFING SOBLARVA WHO NEEDS TO GO DIE IN ALL OF THE FIRES MS AsceticClinician -- SERIOUSLY HOW DO YOU EVEN HOLD YOUR HEAD UP ITS UNREAL COMMENDABLY BADASS ON RARE OCCASION BUT OTHERWISE A USELESS SACK OF CRAP MS BelligerentMachismo -- HAHAHAHA HOWS YOUR FACE BITCH ConcreteTechnocrat -- SHITSUCKING PUSSY WITH A MOUTH FULL OF SOPOR OotFE ConstitutionalAbsence -- COCKY LITTLE SELF INDULGENT KINKY SHITHIVE MAGGOTS BITCH IN A STATE OF CONSTANT DENIAL SERIOUSLY I HOPE YOU DIE SLOWLY SOMETIME WHEN IT WONT INCONVENIENCE ME CALL ME OotFE InfiniteAvarice -- WHO THE FUCK IS THIS DOUCHEBAG OotFE NighNonpareil -- FLIGHTY BROAD WITH AN UNUSUAL AMOUNT OF HORSESHIT EVEN BY FLIGHTY BROAD STANDARDS BUT DISAPPOINTINGLY LOW SNARK LEVELS MS RepeatingVirtue -- OH FUCK SO USELESS HE IS AT MAXIMUM RISK OF IMMINENT CULLING JEGUS MS = Order of the Future Empress = In the Order of the Future Empress, Adriel was just in the right-- or wrong-- place at the right-- or wrong-- time. He had just finished culling a troll who was preparing to join the ranks of the Archeradicators when the Imperial Drone stopped his rounds for the night, and took a moment to watch some porn on the archeradicator's computer. He caught an outgoing message from ConstitutionalAbsence and responded, believing that he would be working directly for the Empress, and would have an opportunity to exact revenge for his years of misery upon a monarch. He wound up as CA's server, and is an absolutely, positively terrible one. He basically blew up her house. Now ConcreteTechnocrat is his own useless server, who just put the equipment down right before passing out in a sopor-induced psychedelic coma. This would be fine and dandy, except that the pre-punched card was caught by the wind and swept out into the old construction yard where his most recently deceased target lived, where decrepit giant battle mechs loom in the dark. Adriel has 20 minutes. = Alternative Alternative! = Adriel was originally created as the 14th of 22 trolls for a truly massive session on GaiaOnline, in which each troll would represent one of the cards in the Major Arcana. He represents the Card 13, Death, which signifies sweeping, drastic changes, both loss of something old and the discovery of something new. It isn't necessarily bad, but things rarely go the way they were originally planned when Adriel is involved. Gallery AdrielAA.png AdrielSketch.png|Sketch by ambientArtisan Alspritealternate.png Adrielalternatebackground.png Adriel_sprite_5.png|A bit more representative of his proper height! Category:Teal/Blue Blood Category:Troll Category:CatchTwentythree Category:Male Category:Moonstuck Category:Order of the Future Empress